A Stroke of Colour
by terrified
Summary: A one-shot. My first foray into the world of Twelve and Clara sees an alternate ending to Death In Heaven, where, instead of parting, they make different plans.


_**A/N: **_After talking about it for ages, I've finally written my first Whouffaldi one-shot. It was a really interesting feeling to write for a different ship, after having written for the same ship for over two years now, I think. Anyway, this is my take on their parting scene in Death in Heaven, where instead of parting…they don't. Haha. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) x__

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**A Stroke of Colour**

She had said it. Well, part of it.

_Thank you for making me feel special_.

His response had surprised her. Pleasantly, of course. It was nice to know he felt the same way, but Clara could not help but wish he knew the real depth of what she had wanted to say. Then again, if she had said it, and he had not echoed the sentiment, perhaps it was best left unsaid.

Nevertheless, when his lean fingers that gripped the edge of that blue door eventually slipped back inside as the door clicked shut, everything suddenly seemed to boil over inside of her. Before that familiar, almost comforting hum of the TARDIS could begin sounding, Clara rushed to it, banging on its door frantically.

The door swung open as suddenly as she had charged at it. She was greeted with those eyes of his staring hard at her. The Doctor was perplexed, his clear eyes registering utter confusion, but with a hint of concealed delight. Clara stood before him, wordless, with eyes as wide as saucers. Her mouth parted, as though to speak, only for her to bite down on the insides of her mouth. Clara had no clue what to say to him now. Her gaze dropped as she examined the ground in a bid to find her words again. To her surprise, he spoke first.

"I didn't find Gallifrey." he admitted quietly.

Clara's eyes widened, then softened. She let out a breath she did not know she had been holding. He had lied to her. Again. However, she had never been more pleased that he had.

"Danny didn't come back," she confessed in response.

It was his turn to be surprised now. He tilted his head, frowned and let her words sink in. Just minutes ago, there had been a perfect portrait of Clara and her soldier painted in his mind. It took a while for him to undo the portrait, to picture her without Danny yet again.

"Are you…okay?" he asked.  
"I don't know," she answered, forcing a smile and shrugging her shoulders, "I don't know."

Shaking her head, Clara laughed a soft, sad laugh to herself. The Doctor watched her, fully aware of the agony inside her. It was an agony that agonised him too. A broken Clara was a broken Doctor, whether he cared to admit it or not.

"You lied," she said, looking up suddenly. "Why?"  
"I could ask you the same," he answered.  
"Answer me," said Clara fiercely. She took a step towards the TARDIS, her eyes not once leaving the Doctor's face.  
"You'd have Danny, I'd have Gallifrey, seemed like the perfect plan," he answered, with a furtive half-smile.  
"The perfect plan…" Clara repeated, almost whispering it to herself.

They stood there in silence. The Doctor, towering over her more than usual as he looked down at her from the TARDIS entrance. Clara shuffled her boots against the ground and marvelled at the contrast of the TARDIS' blue edge against the grey of the concrete. That's what the Doctor was, was he not? The beautiful contrast of colour in her otherwise grey and ordinary world. If her life on earth was concrete, the TARDIS was the brilliant streak of cobalt that made life just a little more worth living.

"Plans change, I suppose…" she said with a laugh. She glanced up at him, a glint of hope returning to her eyes.  
"Yes, I suppose they do…" he echoed suspiciously. There was hope rising too, for the Doctor, but he did not want a repeat of the Gallifrey incident.

The Doctor's perplexed frown amused Clara, causing her to chuckle slightly. He remained where he was, his feet planted firmly in the TARDIS, but his torso leaning out to face Clara while his fingers gripped the TARDIS door once more, ready to slam it shut anytime.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Clara asked, pointing to the TARDIS.  
"Well, no, I mean… What?" the Doctor replied.  
"Let's go find Gallifrey," she suggested, almost wildly. The glint in her eyes was really beginning to sparkle now.  
"Why?" he exclaimed, almost angrily, resisting the urge to just slam the door and end this conversation.  
"You went to hell…for me," she began, "Now, I'll go to Gallifrey…for you."  
"Why would you want to do that?" he asked, his voice softening unexpectedly.

A slow, beautiful smile appeared on Clara's face. She moved forward, taking a step into the TARDIS which forced the Doctor to stumble backwards a little.

"Let's get you home, Doctor," Clara said, letting herself in and shutting the TARDIS doors herself. The Doctor edged backwards to his console, still startled from Clara's actions.

"And what about you?" he asked.

With her eyes shining resolutely at him, Clara strode towards the Doctor and reached for him. She held him firmly, resting her cheek gratefully against his shirt. What should have been two sets of steady heartbeats now seemed to have accelerated into a hum. She smiled to herself as she continued to hold him, feeling her own heart accelerate a little when she felt his tentative hand curve round to the small of her back.

"What about your home?" he asked once more, allowing himself to gently rest his cheek against her hair.

Clara shut her eyes and took a deep breath, burying herself further into the Doctor's cautious embrace. She was reminded of their hug at the cafe just moments ago. Clara was glad that it had not been the last. How could she ever let all of this go? Her mind returned to the band of cobalt against the blandness of the concrete, and a warm, satisfied smile crept onto her face.

With her arms still firmly clutching the Doctor to her, Clara answered him finally.

"I haven't much home here on earth now," she whispered, "I might as well find a new one."  
"Clara—"  
"I mean it, Doctor," she interrupted.  
"It's going to take years, forever…who knows," he continued, despondence tainting his voice.  
"You're a Time Lord, what does forever matter?" she answered, her hand reaching to brush away a piece of lint on the front of his jacket.  
"Time is only malleable up to a point, you know, even for a Time Lord," he said, with a brief little smile.

All of a sudden, Clara leapt out of their interlocked position, startling him once again.

"Aren't you ever going to learn, Doctor?" she asked, placing both hands on her hips and smiling brightly at him.  
"Learn what?" he asked, his arms still awkwardly suspended in mid-air from their previous embrace.

With a tinkling chuckle, Clara rushed up to him and kissed him earnestly on the cheek. It was his turn now for his eyes to 'inflate' as he blinked the shock away rapidly.

"I don't care what it takes, Doctor," said Clara, hopping over to another side of the console. "You didn't care what it took when you went to hell for me…"

She stopped and turned back to look at him. His arms had returned to his side as he moved slowly to join her. The Doctor walked up to Clara, standing in front of her, studying her expression. She stared back, almost brazenly. Clara could feel life coming back to her, the blood rushing through her veins. This was the most alive she had felt in weeks, and she was not going to turn her back away from it anymore.

"Are you sure about this?" the Doctor asked, finally allowing hope to creep back into his veins. His eyes shone subtly as he bit down on a growing smile.  
"Yes!" Clara exclaimed.  
"Didn't you want a normal life?" he asked, disbelief creeping back once more, "You could find yourself another soldier—"  
"Doctor," Clara interrupted.

Clara reached for his hands and kissed his palms, before placing them on the console.

"My life…is grey. And it's greyer than it's ever been before…" she said.  
"So is my hair…" he interjected, picking at his silvery curls.  
"Shut up," she exclaimed with a laugh, "You and your TARDIS…you are the stroke of colour I need to forget this grey, all right? You. _You_."

His jaw tightened, unsure of what to make of her words. He slipped both hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the lingering pleasure on the skin of his palms from her kiss.

"The grey really bothers you, doesn't it?" he said, his eyes twinkling slightly.  
"Would you just _shut up_," she said, breaking into a grin, "And show me some planets?"

The Doctor smiled, properly now. He straightened his jacket, placed one hand on the TARDIS lever and wrapped his fingers firmly around it.

"Ready?" he asked.  
"Always," Clara replied, her hand moving to clasp gently over his.

**END**


End file.
